


A Very Cute Sadist

by So_Very_Tired



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Boba Tea Heals All Wounds, F/F, Haru's hobby, Makoto doesn't get it, Oh things will get spicy indeed, Ryuji da real MVP, Sadism, Things are gonna get spicy, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27687671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/So_Very_Tired/pseuds/So_Very_Tired
Summary: Haru's been going into Mementos. Alone. Without telling anyone.And this is a problem, in Makoto's eyes. It's dangerous. She could get hurt, alone down there, and nobody would know until it was too late. If she wanted to get in some training, they should do it together.But when Makoto confronts her - when Makoto discovers exactly what Haru has actually been up to...it just seems wrong. It doesn't make any sense. It's so different from everything she thought she knew about Haru that she can't look away.So Makoto makes up her mind. She's on the case now, and she's going to get to the bottom of this.
Relationships: Niijima Makoto/Okumura Haru, Suzui Shiho/Takamaki Ann
Comments: 21
Kudos: 66





	1. Caught in the Act

**Author's Note:**

> Finally got around to playing P5R and this has been knocking around in my head, so...apologies, haha.
> 
> Set at some ambiguous point in time after the 5th palace/during the 6th palace.

_ she’s doing it again. _

Makoto put her pencil down and stared at the message pop-up on her phone. Futaba had wormed her way into all of their phones, which was something that Makoto didn’t really like to dwell on too much. It seemed to be harmless. Most of the time. Mostly.

But it was also very useful, sometimes. She picked up the phone and unlocked it, glad to see that the message had been sent to only her and Akira. Akira had already responded.

_ A: Alone? _

_ F: yup, just her _

It had been Makoto’s idea. If there was some other Metaverse user out there, one in a black mask murdering people, then it stood to reason they might also go into Mementos. And if Futaba could somehow work her magic with the app and possibly detect when somebody had entered Mementos? That could be a very promising lead.

They’d gotten a hit almost immediately, the evening after Futaba had everything set up. A single user entering Mementos at their usual spot in Shibuya. But it hadn’t taken any detective work to figure out who it was. Futaba was in Haru’s phone, too, after all.

So Haru was in Mementos. Alone. Without saying a word about it to anyone else in the Phantom Thieves.

_ A: I’ll meet you at Shibuya station _

_ A: Morgana’s coming too _

Makoto texted back a quick  _ on my way _ and started packing up her books, sweeping a dizzying variety of colored highlighters into her Buchi-kun pencil case. She could remember a brief, fleeting moment when they’d first met Haru, when that shy, sweet girl was reading off a script and calling herself  _ Beauty Thief _ and the whole thing felt so...ridiculous.

Except for the black mask.

But it wasn’t Haru. Haru was one of them now, and certainly not a murderer. Certainly not her own father’s murderer. Something else was going on here, and they were about to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

The entrance to Mementos was empty, like it always was.

“Is she still here?” Akira asked, standing at the turnstiles. He was staring out into the dark tunnels before them, hands in his pockets. 

“She didn’t come out,” Futaba said, placing a hand at the side of her goggles. “Hang on, she’s...she’s close, I’m pretty sure. Right on the first level. Shouldn’t take long to find her.”

“What about on foot?” Akira said.

Morgana looked up at him, confused. “Joker, I’m right here.”

“You want to sneak up on her?” Makoto said.

He nodded back at her. The same thing had occurred to Makoto - if Haru was doing something...well,  _ whatever _ she was doing in here, it might be better to catch her in the act. And the Mona van was loud, between the purr of the engine and the  _ thump thump thump  _ of his tires over the tracks. Not to mention the headlights.

“Still shouldn’t take long,” Futaba said. She sat down on the floor cross-legged and opened her laptop. “I’ve got a pretty good fix on her. Yup, first level.”

Akira turned to Makoto, hands still deep in the pockets of his long black coat. “What do you think?”

Makoto didn’t hesitate - she’d spent the ride here going over possible scenarios in her head, making plans. “I think Futaba stays here and keeps us updated. The three of us go find Haru and…”

And what? That part depended, of course. On what exactly Haru was doing in here alone.

“Talk to her?” Akira said.

“I suppose,” Makoto said. “It’s dangerous, being in here alone. I’m honestly just worried about her.”

“It’s only the first level,” Futaba said. “There’s nothing up here any of you guys couldn’t handle by yourself.”

“Still,” Makoto said. “Mona-chan, you warned her about that other shadow with the chains, right?”

“I told her!” Morgana said, frowning with plenty of worry of his own. “I don’t get it...I would go with her if she wanted to fight shadows! Any of us would!”

“Alright,” Akira said. “We’re all worried. Let’s just see what she’s up to. Oracle? Keep us posted.”

Futaba shot him a thumbs-up from the floor. He stepped through the turnstile and down into the darkness, Queen and Mona falling in behind him.

* * *

Mementos was very different on foot. And with just the three of them.

Makoto felt much smaller than she usually did in the tunnels, fists clenched tightly around the brass knuckles in her hands. The darkness around them felt thicker, alive and menacing without Mona’s headlights lighting the way. Usually when they were out of the van, they were fighting a shadow, the thrill and noise of combat enough of a distraction to not really have to think about all this.

She always felt different, in the Metaverse. Strong, powerful, fearless and unbound since her awakening. Walking through a dark tunnel like this in the real world would probably give Makoto Niijima a heart attack. But Queen strode along undaunted. The few shadows they had seen had only reinforced the confidence swelling in her chest, fleeing in terror at the sight of them.

Despite all that, part of her was dreading whatever they were about to find. She kept telling herself that Haru was probably just...doing some training. Alone. For some reason. Certainly not meeting with an unknown black-masked murderer. There was simply no way - sweet, innocent Haru didn’t seem like she could lie to save her life.

Unless she was actually a  _ phenomenal  _ liar pulling off that facade? No, no...Makoto felt herself scowling, knowing she was overthinking things. She had to trust their new teammate. Haru had proven herself, fighting by their side through her own father’s palace.

“You’re getting close,” Futaba said in their ears. Somehow. As if they had radios of some kind. Makoto still wasn’t sure how she was doing that.

“Maybe she’s just doing a request?” Morgana said, quietly whispering at her side. The poor thing had been frowning the whole way, brow furrowed. He and Haru were close, after all. He probably felt pretty hurt that she was keeping a secret like this from him.

“By herself?” Akira said, “That’s against our code. And she knows it.”

“She wouldn’t,” Makoto said, trying and failing to sound reassuring. To her own ears, anyway.

“Maybe she’s just too embarrassed about wanting to practice?” Futaba said. “She’s our newest member, after all.”

“That...makes a lot of sense, actually,” Makoto said, feeling a bit of relief. “I still think it’s too dangerous for her to be in here alone”

“I would feel like a noob fighting next to you guys too,” Futaba said. “She’s just doing some solo grinding!”

But there was no need to feel embarrassed. Makoto suddenly felt awful about all her suspicions. If Haru felt like she needed training, well...Makoto would be happy to help.

“That sounds likely,” Makoto said. “Very sharp of you, Futaba.”

“Gasp! Complimented by Queen! I’ve been buffed, heh heh.”

Makoto rolled her eyes. “I just wish she felt comfortable talking to us about that.”

Akira stopped, raising one hand. “Shh.”

Makoto and Morgana stopped, standing just a bit behind him. Something was echoing through the tunnel ahead of them, faint and distant.

“...Yeah, that’s her. Around the next corner,” Futaba said, whispering, even though she probably didn’t need to be. “She’s been there for a few minutes, looks like.”

Makoto jumped as something pierced into her ears. A long, unhinged shriek cut through the air around them, a deep and panicked scream of pain.

Akira turned and glanced at his teammate before breaking into a run, quietly sprinting at a stealthy crouch. They followed, staying close to the side of the tunnel, rushing up to a sharp bend in the tracks.

It wasn’t Haru that had screamed. It sounded nothing like her, and Makoto had heard her cry out in pain before. Her heart was already pounding anyway, blood pumping for a fight, that sweet tight  _ leaping  _ feeling in her chest as adrenaline kicked in.

When he reached the corner, Akira slid to a stop so suddenly that Morgana slammed into the back of his legs and then Makoto damn near tripped over the cat, arms flailing as she struggled for balance and fell forward into Akira’s back.

_ OOF what the hell WHY _

She didn’t get a chance to say any of it, Akira’s red glove clapping over her mouth.

There had been a fight, yes. Makoto could see smears of black blood on the ground and walls, pieces of shadows still melting into dark ooze on the tracks. Haru was standing out in the open, her back not quite turned to them, just enough that Makoto could see the side of her face.

Their teammate was standing over a live shadow. A Mandrake, Akira had called it. Makoto remembered seeing them up here, odd little plant people with flowers for hair.

This one was lying on the ground, missing both of its legs. “Please! I’ll do anything! Let me live!” it cried, its voice a strange high-pitched distortion.

Haru was staring at it, an odd little smile teasing at the corners of her lips. She held her huge axe casually in one hand, resting it over her shoulder. Her other hand reached up to hold a finger to her smile, like she couldn’t decide what to order at Leblanc. Adorable.

“...Anything, you say?” she said, her sweet, breathy voice just barely loud enough to hear.

“Anything!” the Mandrake screamed. “Money? I can give you money!”

“Hmm,” Haru said, gripping the handle of her axe in both hands. “No, I don’t think I need that.”

Ah. A hold up. Mugging a shadow. That was all. The Phantom Thieves had done this very thing many times. Normal, for them. Makoto repeated the thought to herself, eyes lingering on the bloody stumps where the Mandrake’s legs should have been.

Yes. Normal. Totally...very normal, she thought again, cringing.

“What about this?” the Mandrake said, reaching up into the flowers on its head and pulling out a strange-looking fruit. “Please!”

“Ugh,” Haru said, her nose scrunching up. “No...no, I don’t think so, sorry.”

Makoto had seen Haru fight before. She shouldn’t have been surprised at how quickly Haru could swing that axe, at the sheer ferocity the girl was capable of. But she gasped anyway as Haru chopped the Mandrake’s arm off with one mighty swing, the limb dropping onto the floor still holding the odd fruit.

“Aaaaaahhhhhh!” the Mandrake shrieked, holding up its one remaining arm. “Please! Anything! I don’t wanna die!”

Makoto could see Haru’s face in profile, could see her strangely gleeful grin, the sparkle in her soft eyes. She raised the axe again and chopped its last arm off, black blood spattering onto her fancy waistcoat.

“No!” the Mandrake begged, a completely helpless lump on the ground now. “No, no, no!”

“Mmm. Yes. That’s very good,” Haru said, raising her axe with sheer unbridled  _ joy _ in her eyes. “Keep begging like that, please.”

She swung again, what should have been a killing blow. But she missed - or did she? The axe bit into the creature’s gut, driving its screams of pain even higher.

Akira’s hand fell from Makoto’s mouth. He was standing still at her side, jaw literally dropped, staring. Morgana looked the same, mouth wide open and eyes full of fear.

And Makoto couldn’t look away either, breathlessly gasping as Haru took another swing, cutting the Mandrake’s chest open. Not that she felt... _ bad _ about killing a shadow, necessarily. They all had killed shadows at this point, it wasn’t...but this?

The thing’s screams were dying down into gurgled gasps now, quickly fading. Haru took her time, staring thoughtfully down at her victim, shuffling a little this way and that as she lined up her next strike.

“...Please…” it managed to gasp out, blood pouring out of its mouth. It’s strange, beady eyes were vacant, glazed over.

Haru closed her eyes, letting out a long, smiling sigh. She was...her face was practically  _ glowing _ , a light dusting of red on her cheeks. She held her axe to her chest, squirming in place with a giddy little bounce.

“Mmm. Yes, I think that’s enough for you. Thank you,” she said, raising her axe, finally, mercifully, for the final blow. The blade  _ thunked  _ into the Mandrake’s head and it went still.

Makoto didn’t mean to gasp out loud. Again, they had...she herself had ripped shadows to pieces with her own fists. This wasn’t...it shouldn’t have been this...shocking?

Haru stiffened up, yanking her axe out of the Mandrake’s corpse and raising it up at the ready.

“...Noir?” Akira called out.

“Aah!” Haru jumped in place, letting out a squeak of surprise that echoed through the tunnel along with her axe clanging to the ground. She turned to them with empty hands, held close against her chest in a way that was utterly bashful and adorable and  _ what the actual fuck _ .

“Oh...oh my!” she said, unable to meet their eyes. “Umm...hello?”

The three of them just stared. Makoto wasn’t sure she was capable of making intelligible speech at the moment, honestly.

“What are...umm...what are you three doing here?” Haru asked, holding her hands behind her back as innocently as could be.

“Let’s talk,” Akira said, quiet in a way that sounded odd to Makoto. “Outside.”

* * *

Futaba had gone home. And she had taken Morgana with her, accepting Akira’s school bag with the captive cat over both their loud and varied objections.

Makoto agreed that it seemed for the best. Haru hadn’t spoken a word through their whole walk out of Mementos, head bowed and utterly mortified. She seemed particularly hurt by Morgana’s many questions, eyes watering up as the cat begged her for an explanation, of any kind, anything.

So now they were at that diner in Shibuya, because it was nearby and it was open late and it was mostly empty. Akira was seated next to her, elbows on the table and chin resting in his hands, ignoring the tea in front of him. He was staring, thoughtfully, across the table at their newest teammate.

Haru seemed like she had recovered a bit. She sipped a cup of tea as if this were a perfectly normal night out, sitting with poised and perfect posture.

This was...Makoto wasn’t sure what to think. At all. She hadn’t known what they were going to find, and somehow this had still sent her reeling. She could feel herself glaring at the girl, unable to help it, keenly aware of how much this felt like they were about to tell Haru she was grounded.

_ Your father and I are not angry, we’re just...disappointed, is all. _

Her legs wouldn’t stop fidgeting, feet bouncing endlessly with nervous energy. Haru raised her cup for another sip, holding the saucer in her other hand like a perfect lady. 

“Mmm.” It was a low noise from Haru, wistful and disappointed.

“Something the matter?” Akira said.

“The tea is...not to my usual standard,” Haru said, still staring off to the side. “No worries, it is still perfectly drinkable.”

The  _ tea _ . Makoto wanted to spring to her feet and knock the damn cup out of her hand. What was she  _ thinking _ ? What was she  _ doing _ ?

Akira laid a hand on her forearm for a moment, like he had read her mind. But he still didn’t speak. Waiting. Watching.

Haru cleared her throat, a dainty little cough into her own delicate hand. A delicate hand that had just been... _ torturing _ a shadow to death. For  _ no reason _ . Her mouth opened and closed a few gentle times, fitful starts that didn’t quite become words.

She finally raised her eyes, giving Akira and then Makoto a gracious look. “I...I would like to apologize.”

_ Good start. Go on. _ Makoto bit her tongue.

“We would also like to apologize,” Akira said.

“Excuse me?” Makoto said. Haru seemed confused as well, blinking a few startled times.

“We were spying on you,” Akira said. “Following you. We could have just talked about this.”

“Oh.” Haru seemed to think this over, staring down at her tea. “No, I understand. I’m sure you were worried about me being in there by myself.”

“Yes!” Makoto said, badly hiding the edge in her voice.

“It’s quite dangerous to be in there alone,” Haru said.

“Yes! Exactly!” Makoto said.

Akira held a hand up at her, urging her to calm down. Makoto didn’t  _ want  _ to calm down. “You put yourself in serious danger!” she said. “And you did it just so you could…”

Could what, exactly? Makoto was still having trouble wrapping her head around it.

“You’re right,” Haru said, nodding and closing her eyes. “I should have at least told one of you I was going in. You’re right.”

Damn her. Sweet, gracious Haru. Makoto grit her teeth, a frustrated growl hiding way in the back of her throat. Why did she have to be so…

_ Keep begging like that _

So…

_ PLEASE _

...Adorable?

“I think I understand,” Akira said, still staring across the table. “But moving forward, yes, it would probably be smart to...well...communicate more.”

_ He understands? Moving FORWARD?! _

“Yes,” Haru said. “And I would...um...I would appreciate your...discretion. Please?”

Akira nodded, finally taking a sip of his own tea, almost absent-mindedly. “Morgana and Futaba will want to talk about this.”

“I would like to handle that myself. Privately,” Haru said, a sad shadow falling over her eyes. “Mona-chan especially. I owe him an explanation, I think.”

“I would say you owe us all an--” Makoto started to say, but Akira cut her off.

“She doesn’t  _ owe _ us anything,” he said, wincing away from the look Makoto gave him. “We’ve all apologized, and I don’t think Haru needs to--”

“It’s quite alright,” Haru said, cutting in somehow with her quiet voice. “Makoto, I understand why you are upset.”

Makoto had never heard Haru say her name like that.  _ Makoto _ . Always Mako-chan. Always Queen.

Haru was turning red again, a faint blush glowing over her cheeks. She fumbled her fingers together, trying and failing to meet Makoto’s eyes. “I think you’re right to be upset. What I was doing was...well, it was very foolish. Selfish, even. And quite embarrassing.”

Makoto couldn’t do anything but blink at her. What Haru had been  _ doing _ was...it seemed...pointless. Unnecessary.  _ Sick _ , even.

“The truth is…” Haru said, her blush growing more fierce. She mumbled something too low to hear.

“What?” Makoto said.

“...I enjoy it,” Haru said, wincing as the words left her mouth.

That...that was it? That was all she had to say for herself? “I don’t...I don’t understand,” Makoto said.

“Please don’t make me spell it out,” Haru said, seeming genuinely hurt.

“Are you really that surprised? Akira asked. “You’ve heard the way she talks sometimes.”

“Right, but…” Makoto shook her head, still not...still not quite able to wrap her head around this. Sure, yes, Haru had...said some things. But that was just...the thrill of combat. The adrenaline high of fighting. Makoto could relate to that, sure, yes, that swell in her chest when she felt her fists snap a shadow’s bones, or the sweet sensation of pulling the trigger of her pistol and seeing a skull just  _ shatter _ , or the…

_ The way the shadows beg for their lives! _

She remembered that one now, very suddenly, something Haru had said while they were riding through the Mementos tunnels. Said with complete innocence, as if it were perfectly normal.

And Makoto had thought she was...joking, maybe. Trying to sound tough, trying to play the part, getting a little carried away in all the bravado of fighting.

But Haru couldn’t lie to save her life, of course.

“Mako-chan?” Haru said, the hurt still plain all over her face. “Please...please don’t judge me.”

“I...well...I don’t…” Makoto said, utterly at a loss.

“We won’t judge you,” Akira said, shooting Makoto a pointed look. “We just need to be safe about this.”

“Safe about what?!” Makoto said, “You’re going to…”

_ Let her keep doing this _ , was what Makoto wanted to say. But she bit her tongue again, just in time to catch a brief glint of something deadly in Haru’s eyes. A tiny little flare of defiance, there and gone in an instant, cold and fierce and brutal.

_ And how exactly would you stop me? _ It seemed to say.

“I think the solution is very simple, actually,” Akira said. “Haru, I would like it if you let someone know if you are going in, and how long you intend to be.”

Akira had an odd habit of mirroring the people around him, in subtle little ways. He always spoke a little more formally to Haru, in a gentlemanly tone.

It drove Makoto a little nuts, honestly.

“It will have to be one of you two,” Haru said. “Are you...suggesting that one of you accompany me?”

“I don’t know if that’s necessary. Would it make you uncomfortable?”

Haru made an uncomfortable noise, lowering her eyes. “...Perhaps.”

“And what?” Makoto said, pounding a fist on the table. “If you don’t show up after some time, we go looking for you? It could be too late by then!”

“Mmm,” Haru said, with a solemn nod. “I suppose you are right. It would be safer with a partner.”

“Buddy system,” Akira said, smiling. “We wouldn’t necessarily have to be...right with you. Just nearby.”

Haru softened at that, a tiny smile creeping back out. “That sounds...agreeable.”

Agreeable.  _ Agreeable _ . Makoto couldn’t believe it, still couldn’t quite wrap her head around this. They were going to start doing secret little buddy trips into Mementos...for what? So Haru could  _ torture _ things? For  _ fun _ ?

“It does feel like quite an imposition,” Haru said, frowning again. “I know the two of you are terribly busy.”

“I’ll do it.”

Akira turned to her, blinking. Haru’s face went blank, blinking as well. Makoto had spoken without thinking, crossing her arms and barking it out before her brain could get to processing the words crying out of her chest.

“Oh! Well...I appreciate it, Mako-chan…” Haru said, giving her a soft smile tinged with embarrassment.

“Are you...sure? We can split it or…” Akira said.

“I’ll handle this,” Makoto said, still not quite sure why this seemed so important. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Oh...kay then,” Akira said, shrugging. “Let me know if you’d like me to help out.”

“Much appreciated,” Haru said. “I promise it won’t be very often.”

Makoto had to force herself not to glare at the other girl. Not that she was...angry maybe wasn’t the right word. Something about it still seemed wrong, to her, something she didn’t or maybe couldn’t understand.

Haru smiled at her again and raised her cup for another sip. She glanced up as she drank, a very different look in her eyes as their stares met. That flash from before was back, lingering, a sharp and dangerous glint in those usually soft eyes.

And Makoto stared right back, not flinching in the least. Whatever the hell Haru was doing, whyever she was doing it, Makoto was sure of one thing and one thing only.

She was going to get to the bottom of this.


	2. A Matter of Perspective

It was only a few days later. Haru had sent Makoto a very short, simple text.

_Today?_

That was all. There was no need for anything else. There was nothing else to talk about, at least between the two of them.

She had agreed. Makoto packed her bag and left the student council room early. Early for her, anyway. She was making her way down the stairs, passing by the second floor when she ran into - of course - Akira coming out of his classroom.

It was all there, the moment their eyes met. He knew. They shared a long stare, Akira finally sighing and nodding and falling in beside her as they walked downstairs.

Neither of them said anything until they had passed through the school gate and out onto the street, just far enough away from prying ears for comfort.

“Haru told me,” Akira said.

“Is that so?”

“She was very nervous about asking you. She needed a confidence boost.”

 _And you gave her that boost WHY?!_ Makoto wanted to ask. She still felt like this wasn’t something they should be encouraging.

“You can be really intimidating, you know,” he said.

“That’s what people keep telling me,” Makoto said, glaring straight forward.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to handle this?”

She was, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on why. Akira was busy, after all. Had more important things to be doing.

_Unlike myself?_

But his attitude about this whole thing just felt...wrong, somehow. How could he be so...it didn’t make sense. Makoto felt her nose scrunching up as she thought about it, narrowing her eyes. Akira was their leader, yes, and Makoto felt that he was good at it.

But she’d never wanted to question his judgement before, she realized. Not like this.

“You’re wondering why I’m so okay with Haru’s hobby?” he said at her side.

Makoto didn’t really hide her shock. Okay, so she was easy to read sometimes. She knew that too. But still.

“Can I ask you something?” Akira said. “It’ll seem unrelated, but bear with me.”

“...Okay,” she said, raising one eyebrow. Curious now, reeled in completely. Akira was good at that too, and she cursed how much she fell for it every time.

“What does Johanna feel like inside your head?”

Joker was as mysterious and surprising as ever. It was a difficult question to answer, one that Makoto had found herself pondering quite a bit back when her persona first awakened. Less now, as it became her new normal.

“Don’t you know what it feels like?” she asked.

“I’ll get to that,” he said. “Humor me.”

“Alright then…” she said, brushing some stray hair behind her ear as she collected her thoughts. “It feels...I wouldn’t say it’s like a voice, at least not out here in the real world. But there’s definitely _something_ in the back of my mind all the time. Quiet, usually.”

“But it feels like a part of you, right?”

“...Yes. Definitely,” she said, feeling a warm smile sneak onto her face. “A part of me that was stomped down. Chained up. But it’s free now. Alive. Awake, I guess. Does that sound right?”

Akira nodded. “You think it’s always been in there?”

“Oh absolutely,” Makoto said, unsure of _how_ she knew that, exactly. But she knew it, knew it as an unassailable fact.

“Do you find yourself acting differently since it awakened?” Akira asked. “Out here in the real world, I mean.”

That gave Makoto pause. “...Perhaps? I don’t think so?”

He smiled at her, miming a slap in the air. Exactly as Makoto had when she’d finally had enough and slapped Eiko across the face, told her to get her goddamn act together.

Alright, so...fair point, she supposed. She _was_ different now. Speaking up when she wouldn’t have, before. More confident, more decisive. Stronger inside.

But she still didn’t see what any of this had to do with Haru.

“I’ve been bearing with you for half a block now,” Makoto said. “You’d better hurry up and make a salient point before we get to the subway.”

“Then I suppose I don’t have time to get into a long conversation about the whole wildcard thing. We’ll just have to skip to the relevant part.”

Makoto was always curious about that. It still didn’t make sense that Joker could just...do this strange and unique thing that none of the rest of them could. But he clearly _could_ do it, had done it before her very eyes many times.

“Very well,” she said, stuffing her questions away. For the moment. “The relevant part being?”

“I have multiple different versions of those voices in my head at any one time,” he said. “Well, like you said, not quite voices. Not out here, anyway.”

Ah. Makoto thought she could see his point now. “You think Haru’s persona is driving her to do those things?”

“No, actually,” Akira said. He bowed his shoulders a little, a brief haunted look passing over his face. “I just...can sympathize. I’m kind of jealous she went through with it, actually. Sometimes I want to go down there and do the same thing.”

Makoto stopped, giving him a long look. Akira stopped, too, giving her a sideways little smirk, a touch embarrassed. He scratched the back of his head, taking a deep breath.

“Sometimes I catch myself thinking about being on the other side of it, too.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?!”

“Look, most of the persona in my head...they’re surprisingly normal,” Akira said, adjusting his glasses. He was blushing now, for once, his pale face dusted with pink. “But a few of them have a really _interesting_ idea of a good time. It’s...given me some perspective, I guess. That I didn’t have before.”

This conversation was going places that Makoto was...not exactly ready to go. Not with Akira, anyway. Or was she? She liked him well enough, knew she could trust him. He was her fake boyfriend, after all.

“What...are you saying, exactly?” she asked.

“I’m saying, I get where Haru is coming from. She has certain...desires. She’s exploring them in a way that isn’t hurting anybody. As long as she stays safe about it, I don’t see any issue.”

“You don’t think what she’s doing might be _unhealthy_?”

He touched his chin, seeming to take her question very seriously. “The thought has crossed my mind. Is it better or worse than her bottling up those desires until they become distorted?”

Makoto blinked, taken aback. That possibility had never crossed her mind.

“This might be a necessary outlet for her,” he said. “I know it looks...well, it looks bad.”

“It _looks_ like she’s a sadistic torturer,” Makoto said, instantly feeling a bit bad saying it out loud.

“Try to keep an open mind?” he said. 

“Mmm,” Makoto said, feeling herself scowl. “I just...I don’t know.”

Akira nodded and patted her on the shoulder. “I appreciate you trying,” he said. “You’re meeting her soon, right?”

Makoto sighed and nodded back at him.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I know you don’t like being late.”

* * *

She was alone in Mementos, standing on the tracks.

Well, not really alone. Makoto knew Haru was just around the corner, had seen her mere minutes ago. She rested one hand on her hip and tapped a foot impatiently, staring up at webs of ivy-like darkness climbing up the walls.

So unsettling. Definitely not enjoying being in here alone.

“...Can you still hear me?” Haru said, heard crystal clear in Makoto’s ears.

That was still unusual, when she took the time to think about it. Futaba had told them it was just a little cognitive trick, because of course a badass band of thieves would have two-way radios and earpieces and it would make sense. All Makoto had to do was imagine she was talking to a mic, somewhere on her person, and...voila.

But there was no such physical device, not even a fake one, like the way her gun worked. Definitely something to ask Futaba about.

“Queen?” Haru asked.

“I’m here,” Makoto said, crossing her arms and huffing. “Everything alright?”

“Indeed,” Haru said. “Just checking in.”

“Mmm.” Makoto’s foot was tapping again. She stared down the tracks, at an intersection ahead. Haru came wandering out of the darkness, not coming toward her. Crossing the intersection in search of prey, ambling along seemingly without a care in the world.

So odd. Makoto had always thought that Haru was...well, adorable, honestly. As Noir it was even worse, with her poofy shorts and that cute feathered cap. She swung her axe side to side as she wandered, giving Makoto a shy little wave before she disappeared down a different tunnel.

“I hope this isn’t too terribly awkward for you?” Haru asked over their strange lack of radio.

“It would be less awkward if we didn’t talk about how awkward it was,” Makoto grumbled.

“Ah, I see. Yes. Good point,” Haru said. “I do think it’s neat, you coming down here with me. I’ve always thought that I would like to spend more time with you.”

So sweet. Not the time, though. Makoto winced, unsure of what to say back. “It’s...it’s nothing, really.”

“It means a lot to me,” Haru said. “Have I ever told you that I’m sort of jealous of you?”

 _That_ was the last thing Makoto had expected to hear. “Umm...no?”

“You’re so strong, Queen. So sure of yourself. I wish...hmm.” Haru sounded distracted all of a sudden.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes, I thought I saw something. But it ran away,” Haru said. “Like I was saying, you’re so good at everything. You can even heal people with your persona. I wish I could do that.”

 _Gosh, stop it, Haru_ , Makoto felt herself wanting to say. Wanting to heal someone, to mend their wounds - maybe Akira was right. Maybe all of this just looked worse than it was.

“If I could use healing magic, I could wound a shadow and then heal it and then wound it again,” Haru said, “Over and over and over. Can you imagine?”

Makoto felt a breath catch in her throat, feeling a brief moment of queasiness. 

_No, actually, no I can NOT imagine that also what the HELL is wrong with you?_

“I don’t...I’ve never tried to use healing magic on a shadow,” Makoto said instead. “I don’t know if it would even do anything.”

“Mmm, I hadn’t thought of that. Oh! I see a shadow,” Haru’s sweet, breathy voice whispered at her, very excited now. “Sorry, I’ll, um...I’ll just be a few minutes. Excuse me.”

So this was really happening. Makoto growled and grumbled and crossed her arms again, ears pricked up and keenly aware of any possible echoes coming down the tunnels at her. She didn’t particularly _want_ to be listening in, and sort of wished she could plug her ears and just...ignore whatever was happening around the corner.

But she wouldn’t let herself do that. The whole reason she was down here was to keep an eye out for Haru. Just in case. No point in going through all this if she was going to shirk that duty. And Makoto Niijima was not one to shirk her duty lightly.

Not that there was any duty to be done at the moment. And nothing near her, no shadows scurrying around in...well, the shadows. Makoto sighed and firmed up her stance, drawing her pistol and raising the sights to her eye as quick and solid as she could.

Not good enough. She holstered it and tried again, slightly more satisfied with her draw this time. The gun was so much heavier than the silly toy she had hidden in her school bag, morphed into a real and lethal weapon the moment she entered Mementos.

She drew again. Much better now, her hand steady, her aim true. Makoto was easing the weapon back into its holster when her ears pricked up.

Screams. The shrieks of a shadow, for sure. They echoed at her out of the darkness, punctuated by the meaty, thudding blow of an axe.

Makoto could swear she heard Haru’s voice in there, somewhere. Not her usual breathy little whispers, but the way her voice rose up when she fought, sharp and strong and determined. Probably summoning Milady, tearing her mask off and dazzling some unsuspecting spirit with psychokinesis.

And then silence.

She stared down the empty tunnel. Was it happening right now? Was Haru...pursuing her hobby? Exploring her desires?

_Oh, just call it what it is! She’s torturing something!_

Makoto felt her shoulders sink. She hadn’t wanted to know this about Haru. She didn’t want to think of Haru this way. She _liked_ Haru.

Another shriek. Cut off, this time, strangled to an early halt. And what was Makoto supposed to do? Stand here and wait? It was _stupid_ , all of this, reckless and risky and so unnecessary. Anything could sneak up behind Haru while she was busy with her...business, pouncing on her before she had a chance to call out for help.

Not that she wanted to watch whatever was happening. But Makoto started walking anyway. She was investigating. Standing guard. Keeping an eye on the situation, assessing whether or not Haru was really losing her mind. That was all.

She stalked down the tunnel, turning the corner much like she had last time. And like last time, she saw the remains of what had been a short and brutal fight. This time, Haru was kneeling on the ground, struggling with something pinned beneath her.

It was a Pixie, grunting and straining and clawing at the dirt, trying to escape. A beguiling little sprite of a woman with short hair and gossamer-thin wings. Wings that Haru had snipped off, resting in the dirt now a few feet away.

Makoto stood and watched, wincing. Haru had a knife in one hand, a small, slender double-edged blade with a charming little rose on the pommel. She jabbed it into the Pixie’s back, her eyes lighting up as the thing shrieked underneath her.

It didn’t stop moving, though, still desperately trying to crawl. Haru growled and grabbed its hair in one hand, driving her knee down into the small of its back. “No!” she barked, as if she were scolding a pet. “No! Stop it! You’re mine now, stop it!”

She twisted the knife, a huge, menacing grin on her face. The Pixie whimpered and stopped, holding up empty hands in surrender.

Makoto knew it wasn’t real, not really. And even if it had been, it wasn’t quite human. But it _looked_ more human than the Mandrake, just enough. And Haru was...her face was savage, _gleeful_ , utterly delighted.

And then it suddenly wasn’t. Haru blinked once, all the menace draining out of her as she looked up, locking eyes with Makoto.

“Oh!” she said, all sweet innocent whispers again. “Oh...hi.”

“Hi,” Makoto said, crossing her arms and glaring down at her.

“...Is everything alright?” Haru asked.

“Just fine,” Makoto said, unable to keep an angry edge of sarcasm out of her words. “Please, don’t mind me.”

Haru stared back at her. She seemed bothered, maybe. A bit uncomfortable. But only for a moment. A quick nod, a shrug, and she turned her attention back down to her victim.

Makoto watched as Haru drew the knife out of the Pixie’s back, holding it up and humming thoughtfully. She took her time now, holding the tip against the creature’s back here, and then there, muttering silently to herself.

What was she saying? Makoto leaned forward, instantly regretting it as Haru made up her mind, slowly drawing the blade down her victim’s skin, leaving a shallow cut that oozed black blood.

She made another long, shallow cut, and then another, mouth still moving. Makoto definitely couldn’t hear her now, drowned out over the gasped cries of pain from the shadow. And then it started playing in her ears - Haru’s hushed little voice, small and quiet and…

Singing. She was singing to herself. Nonsense little hums and mutters, a high-pitched tuneless, wandering mess.

Makoto Niijima would have panicked completely and gone screaming down the tunnel. Queen didn’t do that, but even she was distinctly unsettled now.

Haru’s face changed again, as distinct as taking off her mask. She paused and looked up at Makoto.

“Queen? Are you…” she looked away for a moment, biting her lip. “Are you upset with me?”

What to even say? Haru was literally looking up from torturing something that looked way too close to a human woman for comfort. There were dark stains of demonic blood all over gloves, a few small spattered spots of it gracing her cheek.

“...You seem very upset with me,” Haru said, her eyes sad now. “I’m very sorry that I’ve...disappointed you.”

And even then, despite everything she had seen Haru do, despite what Haru was literally doing _at that very second_ , Makoto felt herself feeling bad for the poor girl.

“I just don’t understand how this is fun,” Makoto said.

“But you kill them too?” Haru said, standing up. “I’ve seen you do much meaner things to the shadows.”

Makoto didn’t know if that was strictly true. She glanced down at the wounded Pixie on the floor, panting in agony. “I don’t think I enjoy it the way you do.”

“You scream in rage and joy as you break them with your fists! I’ve always loved...” Haru said, glowing with excitement that fizzled as quickly as it had flared up. “...I’ve always loved watching you.”

And something about that triggered a rush of _rage_ deep in Makoto’s gut. “It’s different! You know it’s different!”

“Oh.” Haru looked down at the floor again, turning the knife in her hands. “I think that maybe...it might not be as different as you think it is?”

“Well I think that sounds ridiculous,” Makoto said, a few barely-restrained hairs below yelling it.

“Mmm.” She kept turning the knife in her hands, nodding. “When you walked up to me just now, I had kind of hoped...that you were here to join me?”

Haru took a few steps away from the Pixie on the ground. She flipped the knife in her hands, holding it by the blade now.

“I love fighting by your side,” Haru said, holding the knife up. Offering it to Makoto. “You’re always so strong. I just...goodness, I would really love to kill shadows with you.”

Kill. Kill shadows, rather than _fight_ shadows. 

“Would you like to finish this one off?” Haru asked, still so quietly. So sweetly. The thing on the ground was still gasping in pain, head down and whimpering. Completely surrendered.

Makoto glanced at the handle of the knife. Brilliant white ivory stained black, intricate carvings still visible down its length. Her eyes hardened into a glare, her mind made up.

She drew her pistol and fired in one smooth motion, the shot crashing unbelievably loud against the close walls of the tunnel. Haru jumped in place, squealing in surprise.

Her aim had been true. The Pixie was dead, a single bullet through its skull.

“There,” Makoto said, holstering her gun and going back to crossing her arms. “I put it out of its misery.”

Haru stared down at the corpse. “I see,” she said, even more quietly than usual.

“Are we done here?” Makoto asked.

“Mmm,” Haru said, looking perturbed. Uncomfortable. She meekly folded her hands behind her back, hiding the knife.

And god, she looked genuinely sad. Heartbroken.

“Yes, I suppose we are,” Haru said.


	3. A Misunderstanding

She was so gentle.

Haru hadn’t brought anything but a watering can with her. Even so, she stopped and bent down at one of the planters, a soft smile on her face as she dug right in with her bare hands.

Makoto stared down at her, watching from the window of the student council room. Even from this far away she could see the tenderness in Haru’s motions, the easy grace in her fingers as she teased weeds out of the soil. Politely convincing them to leave, instead of tearing them out.

It was the same set of planters where they had first really spoken, out by the front gate of the school. Haru made these rounds every day after classes. Makoto hadn’t watched until recently, of course.

Makoto felt herself squinting. Haru’s mouth was moving, she was sure of it, probably humming along and singing a little nonsense tune to herself, probably sounding exactly the same as she had...that one night. Over a week ago, now.

She felt her eyes harden again, felt a glare scrunching down across her brow. 

It just didn’t make any  _ sense _ .

Makoto’s phone buzzed, behind her on the table. She was alone up here, thankfully, not that she felt the need to explain herself. It was nice outside. Sometimes it’s nice to stand and stare out the window for minutes at a time.

She picked up her phone to see a text from Futaba.

_ F: so...haru, huh? _

Unexpected. She hadn’t spoken a word about all this to anyone but Akira. She texted back  _ what do you mean by that? _

_ F: come on you know I tapped your phone _

_ F: i saw that whole talk you had with akira the other day _

Makoto grumbled a little under her breath as she typed back.

_ M: Futaba, we need to have a very serious talk about privacy and boundaries. _

_ F: whatever you love it _

_ F: so you gonna go with her again or what _

Makoto felt herself glaring again, throwing a quick glance out the window. She bit her lip, wondering where to even begin.

_ F: who are you looking at _

_ F: oh shit is Haru there? _

Ugh, of course Futaba was watching her camera, too. Makoto gave her phone a very exasperated look. “Language!” she muttered.

_ F: sry queen _

_ F: blink twice if Haru is there hee hee _

Part of Makoto, probably the part of her that had manifested itself into a rebellious biker suit studded with spikes, thought about throwing a middle finger at her phone’s camera. Instead she just sighed loudly and sat down.

_ M: No one else is here. _

_ M: What did Haru say to you about this? _

Futaba was a fast typer, scarily so sometimes. Even so, it took a few long seconds of staring before her response appeared.

_ F: she was all vague and blushy about it but i got the picture _

_ F: nbd _

_ M: NBD?! _

_ F: no big deal _

_ F: ur such an old lady sometimes lol _

“Ugh, I know what it means!” Makoto said out loud.

_ M: How is this not a big deal? _

_ F: you know i live on the internet right? _

Her next message was a link. Makoto tapped on it, without thinking, immediately yelping and dropping her phone on the table as a video opened. It had audio.  _ Loud _ audio, moaning and the crack of a whip.

Makoto fumbled with her phone for a few seconds, desperately trying to close the file or just mute it or  _ anything _ , pointedly trying to not watch as a woman in shackles had her bare back whipped, bright red welts rising on her fair skin. She closed it, finally, thankfully, throwing a guilty glance over at the closed door.

_ M: YOU NEED TO WARN ME NEXT TIME _

_ F: oh yeah shit sry nsfw _

_ F: er _

_ F: nsfs i guess? _

_ M: Language. _

_ F: ...next time?  _ (ಠ⌣ಠ)

“That’s not what I...uggggggggh…” Makoto said. She’d broken out in a flop sweat from her mad scramble to close the video, but she tried to just clear her throat and ignore that, rolling her eyes at her phone.

_ F: jk jk not my thing but its for sure out there _

Makoto knew that. Of  _ course _ she knew that, she wasn’t some completely innocent rube, some kind of wide-eyed waif. She had heard words like  _ kink  _ and  _ fetish  _ and  _ sado-masochism _ . But Haru’s behavior was...it seemed a little more...well, a lot more extreme.

_ M: I don’t know if that’s quite the situation with Haru. _

_ M: Honestly, I’m worried about her _

_ F: really? Fr ive done more messed up things in video games _

Futaba sent her another link. Makoto started to reach for it but pulled her finger away. Learned her lesson the first time.

_ F: just sayin its not THAT weird _

_ M: I’m shocked you can say that. _

_ F: omfg queen maybe you just need to get laid _

“Futaba!” Makoto yelled out loud, gripping her phone tightly.

_ F: I’m available anytime if you need a hand kekekekeke _

Ugh, Futaba...such a shy little nerd face-to-face, but hiding behind her computer turned her into a wretched little gremlin sometimes. Makoto smirked down at that last message.

_ M: Interesting proposal. Very well, I’m on my way over to your place now. _

_ F: WAIT WHAT NO TOO REAL TOO REAL ABORT ABORT JK JK JKKKKKKKKK _

“Thought so,” Makoto said, staring haughtily down at her phone. She didn’t have long to gloat, though - someone knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Makoto said, hiding her phone in her pocket. She stood up again, peeking out the window, only to see nobody out by the planters.

“Hello?” Haru said from the door.

“Oh!” Makoto spun around, feeling suddenly very guilty. Caught in the act. “Haru! What are you...hi.”

“...Hi,” Haru said, and it was so small and quiet and already embarrassed that it ached in Makoto’s chest. “May I come in?”

Makoto nodded, but she didn’t sit down. She stayed over by the window instead, leaning against it with her hands on the sill. Haru took a seat at the table, placing her hands slowly and carefully out in front of her.

Yet again, she wouldn’t look Makoto in the eye. Or she couldn’t, perhaps. Haru’s soft, warm eyes stared down at her own hands instead, her mouth slightly scrunched up in concentration in a way that would have been absurdly cute if not for...well, everything.

Makoto stared, and waited. There were traces of dirt high up on Haru’s wrists where she must have missed them when washing, dark leftover bits of it under her fingernails. Unbecoming for a lady of her means, surely.

“How are you?” Haru said suddenly.

Part of Makoto wanted to scoff and tell Haru to cut to the chase.

_ Don’t waste my time with pleasantries, I know why you’re here. _

But that felt mean. It felt like something Sae would say. She could hear it perfectly in the distorted voice of her older sister’s shadow, cruel and arrogant.

“I’m...fine,” Makoto forced herself to say instead.

“Oh,” Haru said, sounding completely earnest about it. “That’s a relief. I’ve been worried about you. It seemed like you…”

“Alright, fine, yes, you got me,” Makoto said. It was only a brief flash of annoyance though. “I’m not...yes, things have been sort of rough lately.”

Haru nodded. “It was very difficult for me. Going into my own father’s palace,” she said. “It’s so personal.”

Makoto glared to her side, feeling her hands tense up on the windowsill. “...Yeah. It’s different when it’s...when it’s someone you love.”

She could feel Haru looking at her. Now it was Makoto who couldn’t meet her eyes, hiding against the wall.

“I thought maybe we could spend some time together,” Haru said. “If you would like. If you wanted to just talk, maybe.”

Makoto still couldn’t look at her. It would have sounded sweet, if not for...well it  _ did  _ sound sweet of her. That was the most baffling part of all this - the Haru that Makoto knew from before was still here, still how she was the majority of the time. Sweet and kind and gentle and a joy to be around. So different from the Haru she’d seen pinning a shadow to the ground, mean and gleeful and

_ Stop it. STOP IT. You’re MINE now. _

“Perhaps we could have a nice coffee together?” Haru asked. “Or we could see a movie? If you don’t want to talk. It might be nice to just do something else for a little while. Take our minds off of...things?”

Makoto felt herself shaking her head, felt a wry, tired little chuckle fall out of her. She couldn’t unsee what she had seen Haru do, after all. “Is that what you want? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go into Mementos?”

It had been meant as a mean joke, and Makoto instantly felt bad. Shocked, even, that she had said it.

But Haru lit up a little in her chair. “Oh? I didn’t think you would want to do that with me?”

Did she not know what sarcasm was?

“Perhaps that would be helpful? I’ve heard you say before how combat is a good form of stress relief,” Haru said, staring at her hands again. 

Makoto narrowed her eyes at the girl, but it wasn’t out of anger. Was she...oblivious? Or just so happy to play along that it only seemed that way?

“I haven’t gone since...last time,” Haru said, tapping her fingers together in an anxious little way. “I would love to, if you would come with me.”

All of... _ this _ had been bothering Makoto, yes. On top of everything else going on. Maybe it would be nice to go and do a little fighting in the tunnels instead of in her own sister’s palace. Maybe it would help get her mind off things, help relieve some of the anxious ball of stress wound up in her guts the last week.

Maybe it would be a chance to figure out what was wrong with Haru.

“You know what?” Makoto said, crossing her arms very seriously. “Yes, let’s go.”

Haru perked up even more, gasping and blinking at her. “Really? Now?”

“Why not?”

Haru shot up out of her chair so quickly that she stumbled against the table, clumsily shuffling her legs free and hopping in place. “I...I have to get my things. I’ll meet you out front?”

Makoto sighed and nodded. The door opened and slammed shut, Haru disappearing with a giddy little smile. Thanking Makoto as she left with a barely-contained squeal of delight.

And then it dawned on Makoto what, exactly, she had just agreed to. It had felt stubborn and spiteful, like she refused to back down from a challenge. Which...didn’t really make any sense, now that she was out of the moment.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was Futaba again.

_ F: omfg i think haru just asked you out _

_ F: go get it queen _

“That is  _ not _ …” Makoto said, trailing off with an exasperated sigh. She shot a look at the empty chair where Haru had been moments ago.

_ M: Can you do me a favor? _

_ F: hell yeah i can give you her browser history _

“No!” Makoto said with another loud sigh.

_ M: Can you send me any good articles you can find on... _

Her fingers stopped. Was she really about to type this?

_ M: ...on sado-masochism. Please. _

_ M: NOT PORNOGRAPHY. _

_ F: aww ur no fun _

_ F: but ok fine _

She felt better, suddenly, like she was making progress. Perhaps that was what she was missing here. Research. Makoto hadn’t done the reading yet, and she was at a disadvantage.

But that would have to wait.

* * *

They were deeper in Mementos.

Only a few more levels down, sure. There were two of them now, together, after all. Haru had suggested it - there was a greater variety of shadows down here, she explained. And she was ever so eager to find new ones.

But every shadow they had seen so far had still scurried away in panic. 

Makoto had said yes, sure, why not. Because why not, after all? She wasn’t afraid. Queen wouldn’t back down, wouldn’t flinch, could not be scared or shaken or intimidated. She didn’t have anywhere to be tonight, and it was simple enough to skip to the first of the rest areas. A few quick taps on the app, and the air around them shimmered slightly, the escalator looking no different as it led them to a new destination.

Now they were strolling through a slightly different set of dark tunnels together. Haru stayed by her side, axe in one hand, resting it over her shoulder again.

“This is so interesting,” Haru said, glancing up at the tunnel around them. “It’s so different here compared to the other areas.”

“...It’s not that different.”

“Oh,” Haru said, “I’m sorry, I’m sure you’ve seen all this before. I know I only joined the team very recently.”

Crazy, how bad she could make Makoto feel with just a few words. “No, you’re right. It is different. They had explored all this before I joined, too.”

“I see,” Haru said. “It’s so funny. The way Mona-chan explained everything to me, it sounded like you were always part of the team.”

That gave Makoto pause. Not enough to break her stride, but enough to make her curious. “What do you mean?”

“Just the way he talked about you,” she said, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips. “I suppose it’s the way you  _ are _ , as well. So strong and smart and serious. It’s like you and Joker are almost co-leaders.”

It wasn’t often in the Metaverse that Makoto felt herself do that thing she always did in the real world - clearing her throat and brushing a bit of stray hair back behind her ear, gloved fingers passing over the smooth metal of her mask this time.

“I just think you’re very dashing as Queen. That’s all.” Haru said, biting her lip.

This time Makoto did stop, stuck looking at Haru with utter confusion. Futaba’s texts echoed in her ears.

_ Wait, is Haru actually hitting on me? _

Haru stopped, too, hugging her axe close to her chest. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, her soft eyes full of nerves.

But they were interrupted before Makoto could say anything. A low growl slithered out of the darkness ahead of them. Both girls perked up and dropped into a fighting stance, wordlessly ready. The thing ahead of them took form as it drew closer, two figures now, writhing shadows taking shape into forms that Makoto had seen before.

A pair of humanoid shadows, floating above the ground. Feminine, both of them, a Succubus and an Angel.

An odd pair, for sure. Makoto had never seen this before, but it was nothing to worry about - these particular varieties were weak, nothing remarkable about them. Other than...well, other than their appearance. She remembered something Ryuji had said last time they’d run into a Succubus.

_ Dude, I kinda wanna get it on with that shadow. Is that weird? That’s weird, right? _

Makoto hadn’t said anything, but she didn’t...disagree. She knew enough about herself to know that she had certain...preferences. Unlike Ryuji, she managed to keep her mouth shut about them.

She honestly preferred Leanan Sidhe anyway. Not that anyone would ever learn that particularly embarrassing little fact.

“Ooh! How perfect!” Haru said, her voice full of giddy thrill. “Which one would you like?”

Sometimes you just  _ knew _ something, deep in your gut. Even when it was sort of irritating to admit, even if you didn’t want to show it. Makoto caught herself glaring at the Succubus, already furious at the way its smug face was smirking at her, playfully flexing its claws.

_ YOU. You’re mine. _

“Mmm, I hoped you would say that,” Haru said, watching Makoto stare. She broke off to one side, charging at the Angel to get its attention.

Makoto wanted to protest - she hadn’t  _ chosen _ , really, she definitely hadn’t said anything, and they should be working together anyway, and…

She was cut off as the Succubus waved a hand in her direction. Makoto knew that look, knew what it meant, and she dove to the side into a roll without thought slowing her down. A gout of flame rose from the floor where she’d been standing, the fire magic missing her entirely.

Her gun was in her hand automatically, drawn and aimed in one fluid motion as she stood out of the roll. The shadow darted to the side, leathery wings flapping hard to slide her out of the path of the shot.

It hissed at her, like an angry cat. Makoto felt an answer rising out of her throat, a low growl of rage, manic energy trapped and roiling in her chest until it was overflowing.

The gun was too easy. Makoto holstered her weapon. Not what she needed right now. She charged at her foe, feeling adrenaline sing in her veins as the Succubus charged, too, swooping down at her through the air.

She hadn’t even bothered pulling out her brass knuckles. Makoto sprinted at the thing, feet pushing her until she took a mighty leap at it, meeting it mid-air with her fists.

It wasn’t even a contest - none of the shadows up here were really a threat to her anymore, not unless one truly caught her unaware. Makoto’s gloved fist pounded into the creature’s stomach, stopping it cold and knocking all the wind out of it.

She felt so  _ powerful _ , completely overwhelming her enemy like that, stopping it mid-swoop with nothing but the force of her punch. Makoto raised both hands and brought them down in a brutal hammer strike onto the Succubus’ chest, pounding it into the dirt under her feet.

_ That _ felt good. The shadow wasn’t dead yet but it was dazed, stunned and defeated. Makoto bent down onto one knee, grabbing it by the leathery leotard over its chest. The material creaked in her hand as she pulled the Succubus up off the ground, face to face, teeth grit as she got a good look at her enemy.

It  _ looked _ like a beautiful woman, sure. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Succubi were evil spirits, in folklore, demonic women that took pleasure in torturing their victims, luring them in with their sexy looks.

Something about that touched a nerve with Makoto. Not that she didn’t always feel a sort of sweet, manic thrill when she fought, but this was...different. Righteous. Demanding.  _ Angry _ .

Her other fist smashed down onto the Succubus’ face. If her blows before had felt good, this one was pure ecstasy, shivering with satisfaction at the meaty  _ thud _ against her knuckles. A being like this deserved nothing but punishment, and Makoto could make that happen. Easily, with pleasure, slamming another punch into its face.

Sometimes it felt like Makoto  _ had _ to fight, had to strike her enemies down or the burning energy in her chest would overwhelm her, collapsing in on itself with nowhere to go. She  _ needed _ this, in a way, no chance she could stop herself as she reared back for another strike.

_ CRACK _

Bone snapping, giving way under Makoto’s strength, black blood gushing out of the Succubus’ nose now. There really wasn’t anything like this feeling, beating her opponent down like this,  _ feeling _ the bones break. This was right. This was justice. This was...

_ I think that maybe...it might not be as different as you think it is? _

Makoto froze, all that wild energy draining out of her. Still holding the Succubus, one arm cocked back for another punch.

What was she...what was she doing?

Was she  _ always _ like this?

The Succubus hissed again, swiping its claws across Makoto’s face, leaving a stinging trail of cuts across her cheek. Makoto shrieked in pain, at first, not even pausing for breath as it changed into an angry growl. Before she could think, her gun was out and she was pounding the Succubus’ face to pulp with the bottom of the grip, spitting hot anger with each strike, not even sure if she was actually saying words or just hearing them screaming in her head.

_ Bow _

_ SMACK _

_ To _

_ SMACK _

_ The _

_ SMACK _

_Queen!_ _  
_ She tossed the shadow to the ground and stomped down on its chest, aiming her weapon and pulling back the hammer. Point-blank, one shot, what was left of the awful creatures head blown to pieces as the colossal _bang_ echoed through the tunnels around her.

Makoto let out a long, shuddering breath, staring down at the mess of dark blood on the ground.  _ Justice has been served _ , she wanted to say, maybe with a cool little twirl of her gun. Or no, she could blow smoke from the muzzle before holstering, reveling in the thrill of just feeling and sounding and  _ being _ cool. Strong. Powerful.

But she just stood there instead, staring. Why...why  _ did _ this feel so good?

“Wow!”

Makoto turned to see Haru staring at her. Her soft eyes were wide with awe, and she had one delicate hand to her chest. She sounded a little more out of breath than usual.

“Queen, that was lovely,” Haru said.

But Makoto didn’t say anything back. Her mouth dropped open, staring at what Haru had done with the other shadow. She had somehow managed to tie it to a random length of cage-like bars along one wall of the tunnel. The Angel was grunting and pulling its wrists against black lengths of cord, arms outstretched, white feathery wings straining against the wall behind it.

Makoto had heard that this happened with killers. They refined their technique with each victim, growing more elaborate, giving in to their darkest fantasies. She’d brought  _ rope _ this time.

“What do you think?” Haru said. She still sounded shy and small, but there was a thrilled edge of  _ pride _ purring deep down in her words.

Makoto still couldn’t find any words. She glanced at Haru’s axe, resting on the ground nearby, eyes wandering back to see that same small knife from before in Haru’s hand.

“”Isn’t this a pretty one?” Haru said, turning to her prey.

It...was. In a way that was making Makoto very uncomfortable, ashamed of where her eyes kept wanting to linger. The shadow tied to the wall in front of her looked like a gorgeous, nearly-naked woman, sure. What little she was wearing seemed to be just simple belts of cloth scantily covering as little as possible.

She was already  _ blindfolded _ , for god’s sake.

“Hmm,” Haru said, holding the tip of the knife to her own lips. “Where to start?”

Haru’s eyes snuck over to Makoto, a quick glance, sly and sneaky and hardening into a sure little glare. They turned to the bound Angel, lighting up as Haru reached out with her knife.

Makoto’s breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t stop watching, though. Haru seemed to hesitate, one last time, only for a moment. Then she flicked the blade up through the cloth covering the Angel’s breasts, exposing them with one smooth slice.

_ Don’t look!  _ Makoto thought, raising one hand as if to shield her eyes. The hand did nothing, hovering in the wrong place, not stopping her eyes from staring at all.

“Oh!” Haru said, the knife resting near her lips again. “Wow. So life-like.”

They were. Not that Makoto would particularly know, honestly, but the Angel certainly seemed to be built like a real woman, firm breasts twitching as it gasped in horror.

“What are you doing?” the Angel said, its voice a distorted mockery of a young woman’s voice.

“Hush,” Haru said, raising the knife again. She reached out and rested the tip of her blade against the side of one naked breast, gently tracing it down the curve of pale skin.

Makoto couldn’t look away. The way the creature’s chest was quivering with each shaking breath it took, the way they looked so soft and full and enticing, the pink, smooth skin of its nipples...

“Ah!” the Angel screamed, writhing against its bound wrists.

That snapped Makoto out of it - Haru had pressed the knife harder, slightly, dragging the tip down in a shallow cut along the inside of one entrancing curve. Small drops of black blood oozed from the wound.

“Noir!” Makoto yelled, as if she were barking a command in battle.

Haru yanked her hand back, startled. She turned to Makoto and...well, if Makoto had been a little entranced seeing the Angel’s bare chest, something about the way Haru  _ looked _ right now knocked any coherent thought out of her for a moment. Her eyes were dazed, dreamy, and she was...Makoto could see her nipples poking through her fancy pink shirt, so hard they looked like they were about to cut through the fabric.

Makoto shook her head, snapping herself out of it. “Please!”

“Please?” Haru said, seeming genuinely confused. “Please what, exactly?”

“Stop it!” Makoto said, holding her hand out at the captive shadow. “Stop doing this!”

Haru stared at her for a long moment. “I thought this was why we came down here, though?”

“This is wrong!” Makoto yelled. “It’s wrong and you know it!”

Another long, confused look. More quizzical this time. Puzzled. Haru seemed to be thinking, eventually lighting up as a fun little smile appeared on her lips.

“Oh,” she said, nodding. “Oh! I think I get it now.”

Makoto let out a long sigh of relief. Was it really that easy? All this time?

“You came down here with me so you could try and stop me, didn’t you?” Haru said.

Well...that wasn’t exactly what Makoto had been thinking, maybe. But. “You’re right. I can’t let you keep doing this.”

“I see.”

And then something happened. Haru’s eyes turned hard, the way they did sometimes when she said... _ things _ . She stood up a little straighter, her stance a little more firm, her delicate gloved fingers a little tighter on the handle of her knife.

She looked Makoto in the eye, and it was like being stared at by a completely different woman, one that could make your blood run cold and your heart stop with a single chilling glance.

“So…” Haru said, taking an almost-imperceptible step towards Makoto, a slight shift of her stance. Her voice was different now, stronger, sharper. “You mean to tell me you think I’m being...bad?”

“...What?” Makoto said. A part of her was yelping to retreat, fall back, find cover. But Queen did not back down.

“You think I’m being  _ naughty _ ,” Haru said, her smile morphing into a sly and dangerous smirk. She stepped closer, the knife low at her side.

“I want to…”

_ Help you? _

“I want you to stop doing this!” Makoto said.

“You can’t stop me, Queen,” Haru said, another sliding step closer. Close enough to touch now.

Close enough to see the glint in her eyes, not unhinged. No, quite the opposite, more sure and strong and unyielding than anything Makoto could imagine in her own eyes.

“You’ll  _ never  _ stop me, Queen,” Haru said, her smile now an arrogant, haughty grin worthy of a true villain.

That was far enough. Something inside Makoto snapped, a long battle cry let screaming loose in her head. You had to try to do things peacefully, of course, but sometimes force was all you had left, and Makoto had seen it work before. And it felt good, sometimes, it felt  _ right _ \- to win, to crush your foe, to force your will and your way.

And it wasn’t like part of Makoto  _ hadn’t  _ wanted to just slap some goddamned sense into Eiko.

Makoto sucked in a quick, sharp breath. She struck like lightning, her palm slapping across Haru’s cheek in an instant.

But this was a much stronger blow than the last time she’d slapped a girl. Haru made a short squeak of shock, face knocked to the side so hard that her feathered cap was askew now. She turned to Makoto with open, naked wonder on her face, reaching up and touching at her lips with one glove.

Red. There was blood on her lip, Haru’s chest rising and falling, heaving, gulping for air.

Makoto felt all the rage drain out of her once again.

_ I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry _

_ I had to _

_ You were out of control _

Something wicked flared up in Haru’s eyes, and she tensed up to pounce. Makoto couldn’t even move, standing still and wide open like an idiot, flinching as Haru darted forward.

She wanted to let it happen. She  _ deserved  _ this, Makoto thought to herself in the split-second before…

Haru didn’t attack her. Well, it sort of felt like an attack, rough and desperate and crushing. Makoto felt soft gloves grab her face and then Haru’s lips were on hers, forcing her tongue into Makoto’s mouth, hot and slick and  _ needy  _ and tinged with the sharp coppery taste of blood and Makoto’s heart was  _ pounding _ , because she’d known for a long time that she really  _ wanted  _ to kiss a girl but she’d never done it before and thought it would be a long, long time before she got the chance and…

_ Wait wait wait wait WAIT _

Makoto grunted and shoved Haru back, trying desperately to ignore the giddy rush low in her belly.

“Haru?!” she managed to gasp out, blinking in utter confusion. “Haru, what the...what the  _ hell _ ?!”

“What?” Haru said, blinking and deflating back to her usual self, all the malice in her eyes gone. “I thought you...I thought we…”

“You thought we  _ what _ ?!” Makoto screamed, because being angry right now was the only way to crowd out some other very confusing things she was maybe feeling, and  _ dammit _ Haru that was really out of nowhere, and...and…

And then Makoto instantly felt  _ awful _ .

Haru took her hat off and hid her face behind it, eyes barely poking out over the rim. She was already crying, squinting and cringing in against herself and shaking so hard her knees were knocking together.

“Oh.” Makoto said, wincing away from the sight of Haru’s tears. “Oh, oh my god, I didn’t...I didn’t mean to…”

Haru ducked her head, shaking it back and forth behind her hat. “But you...you said you wanted to come with me. You suggested it!”

Still wincing. It was all Makoto could manage to do.

“I thought we…” Haru coughed out between sobs, “I thought you...I thought we were…”

Makoto raised one hand and didn’t manage to touch Haru, losing momentum halfway to the other girl.

“Stupid,” Haru breathed out, whispering to herself, weeping openly now, her thick curls bobbing with each convulsing breath, “Stupid, stupid, stupid…sorry, sorry, sorry...”

Queen wouldn’t back down. She forced her hand forward, resting it on Haru’s shoulder and trying her best to keep it there despite the way Haru flinched violently at the touch.

“I...listen, we...maybe let’s just…” Makoto tried to say, having no idea each time where she was going with this. “Maybe let’s just...get out of Mementos?”

Haru didn’t come out from behind her hat. But she did take a deep breath, holding back another sob long enough to make a few silent, shuddering nods.


	4. All Tangled Up

_ M: Ann _

_ M: Where are you right now? _

_ M: It’s kind of an emergency. _

_ M: I really, really need to talk. _

_ A: omg r u ok? _

_ A: yes i can meet _

_ A: where r u _

* * *

Makoto ducked her head and took refuge in the oddly-wide straw of her drink. She didn’t really see the appeal of Boba tea, but Ann loved it, and this place was near the Mementos entrance, and it was late enough that there weren’t many other options.

And  _ god _ she was so tired. Going to the Metaverse left her exhausted, every time, limbs heavy and mind dulled so much that she could usually do nothing but just go to bed.

But this couldn’t wait.

So the tea helped. It was ridiculously sweet, and full of caffeine, and the tapioca balls were oddly soothing to chew on. Makoto needed something soothing right now. Something to focus on, anything to distract her even for a moment from the long look of naked shock on Ann’s face.

It had been a long few seconds since Makoto finished explaining. Catching Ann up. She forced herself to glance up, across the table.

But Ann was still just staring at her, eyes still a little wide, her mouth hanging slightly open. The end of her straw was chewed flat. Gross. Makoto was always a little irked by that whenever Ann offered her a taste of her smoothie or tea or whatever.

She never turned Ann down, of course. Couldn’t have.

“...so...that’s…” Makoto said, fleeing from the long pause. “That’s pretty much it.”

Ann blinked a few times. “Wow,” she said. “Just...wow. That’s a lot.”

“It is,” Makoto said, burying her face in her hands. They were sitting in a booth next to a large glass wall, the darkness outside still lit up with the hustle and bustle of Shibuya. 

But definitely quieter than usual. Late on a weekday. The tea shop was quiet, too, nearly empty.

“I’m sorry,” Makoto said, suddenly, not sure where it was coming from, “I’m really sorry to dump all this on you and I wasn’t going to tell anyone else and I didn’t know what to do and I don’t --”

“Whoa, whoa whoa,” Ann said. She reached across the table, taking Makoto’s hands in her own. Soft. Always so soft, flawless smooth skin, perpetually smelling of lotion. “Calm down, Makoto. I’m not gonna tell anyone else.”

“Okay.” Makoto felt herself take a deep, shuddering breath, willing her heart to slow down again. “Okay. Thank you.”

“Relax,” Ann said, giving her hands a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay. First thing though, where’s Haru? Did she just go home?”

Makoto nodded. “She called a ride. We, uh...it was awkward.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Ann said.

Awkward. The word failed utterly. Standing outside the Shibuya subway while Haru waited for her family’s driver, unable to look at each other, Makoto holding onto the strap of her purse for dear life.

“Is she…” Ann started, hesitating. “I mean, I know this is a stupid question, but like...did she seem even a little okay?”

_ No _ , Makoto thought instantly. But it was impossible to really know. Haru had barely spoken to her on their way out of Mementos. She’d stopped crying more or less immediately, collecting herself and packing it all in with a few loud sniffs as she put her feathered cap back on.

She was good at that. Makoto thought so, anyway. Maybe it all came pouring out of Haru again the moment she got home, or maybe it would all stay bottled up for days or weeks until she felt the need to...was that what all this was?

“Hey,” Ann said, waving Makoto out of her thoughts. “Stay with me. Talk to me. Does Akira know?”

A brief flash of panic. “About tonight? No, I didn’t...I called you.”

Ann gave her a curious look. “Thanks, I guess? We should probably...”

“Yeah,” Makoto said, and she hated the way her eyes narrowed as she said it. Since when did she doubt their leader? When had he lost her trust, even in such a small way?

“Or not?” Ann said, her hands pulling away from Makoto’s. Slightly. Almost imperceptibly.

“He just…” Makoto said, grasping for words, stuck without them, clouded out by a strange rush of  _ anger _ in her chest. “I don’t think he understands. He’s been  _ encouraging  _ this!”

Ann opened her mouth, as if to question her. She seemed to think better of it, though, clicking her mouth shut and looking away.

“Oh, not you too!” Makoto said.

“Whoa, I didn’t say anything!” Ann said. “I wasn’t there.”

That’s right. She hadn’t seen Haru’s...hobby. Up close. The blood. The pleading victims. The way she  _ smiled _ .

Ann’s hands slid away. A thought occurred to Makoto for the first time, a very scary thought.

“You do believe me, don’t you?”

“Pfft, yeah! Of course!” Ann said, smiling like this was all a joke. “I’ve heard the way Haru talks sometimes. I’ve seen her fight. This isn’t...I mean, it’s not  _ that  _ surprising.”

It made Makoto feel small. Foolish. Why did it seem like she was the only one upset by this?

“It’s just…”

Ann hesitated. She dragged one fingernail on the table between them, biting her lip slightly, gently, just so. The sight of it drove a small part of Makoto mad, in a way she was deeply embarrassed to feel.

“It’s just what?” she asked.

Ann met her eyes, like this should’ve been obvious. “Not to be like...weird or anything, but you definitely get like that, too.”

_ What _

Makoto was only vaguely aware of her jaw dropping a little. “Get like...like what?”

“When you’re all fired up. When you’re beating on shadows in the…” Ann caught herself, huddling in closer over the table, “you know, in the place. You scare me a little sometimes. You get so intense.”

That couldn’t be right. Ann hadn’t been there. She didn’t know. She hadn’t seen Makoto earlier that evening. Roaring with rage. Blood dripping from the grip of her gun. The thrill in her chest.

“I mean…” Ann huddled in closer, “this is gonna sound weird too, but it’s kind of hot?”

“That’s not funny,” Makoto said, crossing her arms and pouting.

“I used to think you were just trying to show off for me,” Ann said. “But you never stopped, even after…”

“Even after I utterly embarrassed myself,” Makoto said, closing her eyes.

“You did not!” Ann said, warm and gentle now. “I meant it when I said I was flattered.”

Makoto let out another long sigh. She’d grown a lot since joining the Phantom Thieves, figured out a lot of things about herself. And of course she’d had a little crush on Ann. Who wouldn’t?

And it had hurt, of course, but...then they just kept on being friends. Closer than ever now, oddly enough.

“I mean, they’re not real, right?” Ann said, smiling again like this was all obvious. “The shadows.”

Makoto didn’t know how to answer that anymore. She’d thought Ann would understand, sweet and kind Ann, Ann who would never...never take any kind of  _ pleasure _ in tearing shadows to shreds with her whip. Wouldn’t get any kind of  _ excitement _ out of it, even seemed sort of uncomfortable in her racy Metaverse clothes sometimes, but…

_ Squeal like a pig! _

She sure did seem to be  _ enjoying  _ herself. At times. In a way that was...well, it had been on Makoto’s mind a lot. Recently.

“Do you have fun killing them?” Makoto asked, more blunt than she’d meant to be.

Ann jumped a little in her seat, like she’d gotten a little jolt of static.

“You do, don’t you?”

“Um...I don’t know if  _ fun  _ is the right word?” Ann said, not as uneasy as Makoto had expected. “It is kind of thrilling, right? Don’t we all get really into it? And hey, they’re trying to kill us.”

So Makoto was crazy, then. So they were all crazy. At least a little bit. The Metaverse had driven them mad, twisted a bunch of teenagers into sick fiends who got their thrills killing things.

No, that wasn’t right. Makoto felt a bit of muted horror as she reminded herself. This was a part of her that had always been there. A part of her that had awakened.

“Are we...murderers?” Makoto asked, very quietly.

“No! Are you kidding?” Ann said. Smiling. Waving her off. “It’s all just like...cognitive visions or whatever. Mona-chan would know the right words. Like a video game or something.”

It hadn’t made her feel any better when Futaba had put it that way. It didn’t make her feel much better now. Makoto stared into what was left of her tea, feeling like she was sinking into something thick and dark and drowning.

“But I mean I get it, it sounds like Haru is more, uh...gosh, I don’t know what the word is,” Ann said. “It’s definitely a little much.”

A little much. A  _ little  _ much. Even Ann didn’t get it. Even Ann thought this was only...a  _ little _ much.

Even Ann. Ann, who was...well, Makoto didn’t like to think of Ann as not being smart. Not anymore, anyway. Sure, there had been a time where she’d assumed -- no, not assumed,  _ known _ , almost automatically -- that she was smarter than Ann, and that was that.

And it made her feel awful to even remember it. Mean. Petty. And wrong, most of all. Ann wasn’t smart about some things, fine, but she was sharper than Makoto could ever be about others.

And even she only thought all this was a  _ little  _ much.

“Am I...am I wrong about all this?” Makoto said, desperately looking up to Ann.

“I don’t know, I mean I get why you’re freaked out by Haru doing...that,” Ann said, wincing as she thought about it. “Honestly? This is gonna sound stupidly simple, but you should probably just talk to Haru about it?”

_ Well when you say it like THAT it does sound stupidly simple _

Makoto let out a long sigh. It wasn’t that simple. None of this was, for her. She just didn’t get other people sometimes, couldn’t read the same cues everyone else seemed to know by default. Book smart, yes.

But not sharp about certain things.

“Haru’s had a crush on me for a while, hasn’t she?” Makoto asked.

Ann nodded instantly, loudly slurping her tea. “Been crushing  _ super  _ hard.”

“It’s been really obvious, hasn’t it?”

Ann nodded again. “ _ Super  _ obvious.”

Makoto rolled her eyes. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Oh my god she’s been so adorable about it though,” Ann said. “Me and Ryuji have a bet going about who asks who out first. He thinks there’s no way you make the first move. But he doesn’t know how  _ bold _ you can be.”

There was a mischievous, flirty glint in those blue eyes. It drove Makoto a little mad again. But it was only a little, a leftover flicker of desire.

“How is Shiho?” Makoto said.

Ann shrugged. “It’s tough. We call each other all the time but it’s still...you know. She’s so far away now.”

“Mmm,” Makoto nodded. She hadn’t known Shiho before...well, before everything happened. But if half the things Ann said about her were true, and if the way Ann lit up every time she mentioned Shiho meant anything…she deserved Ann.

“Ugh, I miss her sooooooooooooooo much!” Ann said, flopping down onto the table.

“I know,” Makoto said. “I’m sorry.”

Ann made a little whine, somehow finagling her straw into her mouth even with her head down on the table.

“Okay,” Makoto said, nodding to herself. “I’ll just...talk to Haru about this. As soon as possible.”

“Please,” Ann said. “I don’t like seeing you upset like this.”

“I’ll call her tonight,” Makoto said. 

Ann shook her head frantically. Right, not exactly a good talk to have over the phone.

“No, no, right, that’s...I’ll find her tomorrow after school,” Makoto said.

“Yes! Good,” Ann said, sitting up again. “Hit me up if you need a pep talk, I am all about this. Oh, and do me a favor?”

“Of course. Anything,” Makoto said, still a little embarrassed at how eager she sounded.

“Don’t tell anybody else that Haru kissed you first,” Ann said. “I can still win this bet!” 

Makoto groaned, long and loud. 

* * *

It wasn’t like Makoto to hide in the library.

Normally when she was studying up here after school she would take over a table in the center of the room. Stake her claim. Dominate the space, broadcasting that the student class president was there in case anyone needed anything. But it had better be good if you were going to bother her. She was a busy woman, after all.

Or so she had used to think. All of that felt very silly now. Not as silly as sitting at one of the cubicles in the back of the room, sure. But not quite who she was anymore.

Akira had texted her almost an hour ago.

_ You’re going to talk to her, right? _

_ She’s up on the roof. _

So he knew. It made sense. Haru must have fled to him for support, just as Makoto had fled to Ann. That was fine. He was right. He was being helpful, even. The plan was still to go and talk to Haru.

Soon.

Eventually.

After she read more of the research that Futaba had sent her. Another thing that was very much not like Makoto Niijima -- sitting at a desk with textbooks and notes spread out in front of her, ignoring all of it in favor of scrolling through her phone.

There was a lot to go through. She hadn’t meant to sit here for almost an hour now, reading articles debating whether or not certain fetishes were really disorders or not. Some of it was information she had already known, at least vaguely, and a lot of it kept coming back to one very important word.

Consent.

That made sense to her, the more she read. It seemed fair, and right, and healthy. Lots of things could be harmless fun as long as that very important word was respected. But that didn’t really apply to Haru’s fun, did it? Even if a shadow gave their consent, did that really mean anything? Was Haru enjoying it  _ because _ they were unwilling?

And that was where Makoto really fell down a rabbit hole.

There were types of sadists, of course. Makoto hadn’t meant to spend so long reading, had intended to just skim a few things and get her feelings in order before taking the plunge. Then her eyes had first crossed over the words  _ enforcing sadist _ .

Someone who justified their sadism under the guise of punishing evildoers.

She felt every word, like a punch to the gut. Knocking the wind out of her. Many enforcing sadists didn’t think of themselves that way, sublimating their desires. They tended to be drawn to authoritative occupations -- military sergeants, university deans, prison guards.

And police officers.

She’d stopped scrolling a few long minutes ago. Just staring, thinking about the way Sae acted now on the rare occasions they were both in the apartment at the same time. Thinking about the shadow of her older sister, how cruel and arrogant and self-righteous she was.

Thinking about the raw, coursing  _ thrill _ Makoto felt in her own heart every time she tore a shadow to pieces with her fists.

But the thing that had really broken her was an article mentioning -- as an aside, almost offhand -- the elevated rates of domestic abuse committed by police officers. That had pushed her horror over into actual panic, and she’d lost the strength to scroll any further.

It couldn’t be right. Her father -- he was a kind man.

He’d always been a kind man.

All Makoto had ever wanted was to live up to her father. If she was -- how could she be like this? What kind of person was she?

“Aah!” Her phone buzzed in her hands, a text popping up at the top of the screen. Makoto threw an embarrassed glance over each shoulder, cringing at the thought of somebody hearing her having a short, quiet meltdown in the corner of the Shibuya school library.

The text was from Ann.

_ Is everything okay? _

Makoto stared at it, utterly unable to answer. Her phone buzzed again.

_ I hope ur already talking to her _

_ If ur not yet, you can do this! _

_ I’m sure you are tho, i bet everything is patched up already _

_ She likes you soooooooooo much _

_ I know things have gotten messed up but ur so strong and supportive and i really think you should give her a chance _

How did she type so quickly? An Ann text barrage was almost as bad as Futaba when she really got going on one.

_ Is it weird if i say i luv u both and i want you to be happy? _

Another set of words that Makoto stared at for far too long. It strangely... _ didn’t  _ hurt. She felt an odd absence of pain in her chest where there should have been a reflexive little spike of longing at the word  _ luv _ .

It had been a while since she’d felt that, she realized. Months had passed. They really were just friends, had been through so much together. It felt...odd. New. Different.

Makoto took a deep breath. She texted back.

_ M: I’m going to see her now _

_ M: Thank you. I love you too. Not in a weird way. Shiho has nothing to worry about, haha. _

She smiled. Texting  _ haha _ like that. Like some kind of normal teenager. Spending time around her friends was doing good things for her, after all.

_ A: Lol i know  _ _ ❥( ◜3‾) _

_ A: sry im being all pressure about haru its too much im the worst _

_ A: u dont have to do anything _

_ A: i mean yes patch things up with her plz but if u have to let her down its ok _

_ A: i will only cry a little i swear  _ _ ( ╥ _ ╥) _

Again, no idea what to say. Makoto had been so caught up on all the metaphysical sadomasochism that she hadn’t even thought about…

Well, that wasn’t strictly true, she realized. But it was...well, it was all tangled up now. Makoto nodded to herself, gathering up her books.

It was time to go up to the roof.

It was time to get to the bottom of all of this.

She’d taken the short walk upstairs many times. The hallways of Shibuya had cleared out a bit, thankfully, most of the students either gone home or off to their clubs or their athletics or their cram school or whatever.

Makoto paused at the last second, hand resting on the handle of the door out to the roof. Thinking about the time she’d come up here to confront the Phantom Thieves, to confront a trio of delinquent students.

So strange to think about now.

She opened the door, slowly. Haru was indeed there, crouched over a planter box with her back to Makoto. Wearing her gym uniform, the sleeves rolled up high onto her forearms.

Haru froze at the sound of the door. Her shoulders sank, ever so slightly, her thick curls of hair dropping as she bowed her head.

She said something. It took Makoto a blinking moment to recognize the word.

“...Akira,” Haru said, with a heavy sigh. She didn’t turn around. “I appreciate it, I mean that. But I really do think I just need to be alone for a while.”

“It’s me,” Makoto said.

“Oh!” Haru turned around with wide eyes, immediately dropping them at the sight of Makoto. “You...oh. Hi.”

Her hands were covered in dirt again. Haru brushed it off but the stains remained, dark on her pale skin.

“Hi,” Makoto said, taking a few careful steps forward. “Can we...I mean, if you want to be alone, that’s…”

“No! No, I mean, yes. Please.” Haru stayed down on her knees, unable to raise her eyes. They wandered around, looking for a place to hide, resting briefly on an empty chair a few feet away

“Are you sure?” Makoto asked. The word  _ consent _ kept ringing in her ears. Full and informed and uncoerced. “I want to talk to you, but it doesn’t have to be now.”

Haru raised her eyes, finally. Soft and brown and sad. “I want you to talk to me.” She glanced again at the chair, sliding out of her crouch and sitting with her back against the planter. “I would like it if you talked to me.”

Makoto walked over to the empty chair. Still careful. Still slow. It was one of those cheap plastic school chairs, creaking as she sat down and let her book bag fall to the floor.

Neither of them said anything for a few long seconds. Makoto let her eyes wander up and out, at the buildings rising around them. Wondering if anybody was looking down at her, spying on two high school girls who definitely weren’t supposed to be hanging out up on the roof.

Delinquents, surely. It almost made her laugh. The word still felt strange on her, but even stranger on Haru. Sweet, shy Haru. Beauty Thief, awkwardly remembering her lines, trying on the role of a Phantom Thief.

But that had been wrong, too. Haru was so fierce it was scary, after all. And that was before they’d known about her secret little hobby.

Makoto finally let herself look over, at the sad girl sitting on the ground nearby. She’d pulled her legs up close to her chest, arms wrapped around them. Huddled in close against herself.

“I thought you were going crazy,” Makoto said. Again, more blunt than she’d meant to be.

“Maybe I am crazy,” Haru said, barely above a whisper.

_ No more than me _ , Makoto felt herself think, instantly, a little shocked by it.

They both started speaking at the same time.

“I didn’t mean to --” Haru said.

“I think I was --” Makoto started to say.

They both halted, eyes meeting for a fleeting awkward instant.

“Go ahead,” Haru said. “Please.”

Deep breath. Long sigh. Makoto closed her eyes, fighting hard to say some uncomfortable words. “I think...you were right about me. In a way.”

Haru looked up at her. Curious. But cautious.

“I wanted to follow you. To keep an eye on you. I thought you were doing something bad. Something wrong,” Makoto said. “I thought I had to do something.”

“I know,” Haru said. “I mean...I know that now.”

She wanted to feel bad for Haru. But there was still something catching her, holding her back.

“Thank you,” Haru said. “By the way.”

Makoto hadn’t expected that one. “For what?”

“For stopping me,” Haru said, ducking her head low. Resting her forehead on her knees. “These things I like doing. Maybe they are wrong. Maybe I am just a...a sick person.”

But hearing that felt wrong, too. Makoto couldn’t quite put her finger on why, yet.

“It felt so good,” Haru said. “And I thought it wasn’t hurting anyone. It was all make-believe. Like a dream. Right?”

“I don’t think you’re wrong, exactly,” Makoto said.

“But it upset you,” Haru said. “It really upset you. And I just can’t...seeing the way you looked at me. Realizing how horrified you were.”

Haru’s fingers dug into the red fabric of her gym uniform, gripping tightly around her knees.

“I’ve never felt so ashamed.”

And it felt  _ awful _ to hear her say it, a wide-open pit opening up in Makoto’s gut. “Haru, stop that.”

“What?”

“Stop. Listen, I…” This was very unlike Makoto, too. Speaking without any kind of plan, letting the words come as they may. “You’re right, I was really freaked out. But…”

And this was why. What did she want to say? There was something she needed to know, but where were the words? Haru was looking at her again, cautious again, hanging on the long, tempting pause.

Shy and quiet and hesitant. Nothing like the cold determination of Noir. That part of her existed in the real world, yes, glimpsed here and there, but in the Metaverse, it was…

Ah.

“Haru, you’ve never done anything like that out here in the real world?” Makoto asked. “Right?”

“No! Of course not!” Haru said, her eyes open wide. “I would never!”

Big brown caramel eyes, wide open in shock at the very idea. But of course, Haru couldn’t lie to save her life. She darted a guilty glance off to the side, huddling in deeper against herself, as if to hide.

She must have felt the way Makoto’s eyes narrowed. Haru winced and closed her eyes, forcing out more words. “Actually, I...sort of. It’s hard to explain.”

Makoto felt her arms cross, stern in a way that would have made her sister proud. “I need you to explain. I’m sorry if this is hard, but it’s important. To me.”

Haru nodded a few times, mouthing something silently to herself. Building up her courage. Makoto almost wished they were in the Metaverse, so perhaps the muttering would play in her ears.

No such luck. Haru stood up suddenly, taking a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, there was a glint of cold resolve staring down at Makoto, just like she’d seen in Noir so many times.

“May I share something very private with you?” Haru said. Very formal. Very proper.

“Uh...yes. Please,” Makoto said. “By all means.”

“It’s very secret,” Haru said. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

Makoto nodded. Satisfied, Haru took another long, shaking breath, and turned to her side.

The very last thing Makoto had expected was for Haru’s pale, dirt-stained hands to expose a very private and even paler stretch of skin. One hand pulled the bottom of her track jacket up, and the other pulled the waistband of her pants down, taking a pair of polka-dotted panties with them. Her naked hip was exposed, sloping away into a tempting glimpse of dark curls between her legs.

Makoto gasped and cleared her throat, tearing herself away from staring. “Haru, what are you --”

And then she saw what Haru was actually trying to show her. A neat line of small scars across the side of her hip, where her underwear would always hide them.

“What...Haru, what happened?” Makoto said. “Who did this to you?”

“I did it,” Haru said, every word dripping with shame. “I used to do it quite a bit, actually.” She put her clothes back in place, bending down to her school bag at the side of the planter and rummaging around inside. When she stood up and came closer to Makoto, she was holding a small, slender knife.

No, not a knife, Makoto realized. A letter opener with a charming little rose on the pommel. The tip of the blade was stained. Old, dark red that had dried into rust-like dullness.

“When I bring it into the Metaverse with me, it turns into...well, you saw,” Haru said.

Makoto raised one hand, as if to examine the blade. But she didn’t touch it. Didn’t want to touch it. She rested her fingers on Haru’s arm instead, giving her a tender squeeze.

This was...not what she had meant by  _ have you ever done anything like that in the real world _ .

“Haru…” Makoto said, just barely keeping herself from saying  _ you poor thing _ . “...Why?”

“It felt good,” Haru said. “I think. I’m not really sure. It started when my father told me I was engaged to that…”

She couldn’t even finish the sentence. Haru’s eyes were tearing up, her chin trembling for a brief moment before she forced it back. “I felt so trapped. I thought nobody would ever help me. I just wanted to...I don’t know what would’ve happened if Mona-chan hadn’t…”

She failed to finish her sentence again, one choked sob finally breaking free. Makoto stood up and hugged her, held her close and shushed her and held one hand up to the back of her head.

Haru didn’t hug her back. Her arms went limp, dropping the letter opener to the ground with a muted clatter.

“You saved me,” Haru said, whispered more like. “You all saved me.”

“You saved yourself,” Makoto whispered back. “We only helped.”

Haru made one loud sniff and nodded, pushing Makoto away out of the hug. It was gentle, sure, but firm. “Thank you,” Haru said, wiping at her eyes with the sleeves of her jacket. “But this isn’t fair.”

“What?”

“I have a crush on you,” Haru said, very simply. Almost casually. “I have a very large crush on you, and I shouldn’t let you hug me like that right now.”

_ Oh, Haru… _

“You don’t feel the same way, and that is fine,” Haru said, nodding to herself again. “I will respect your feelings.”

It had honestly been the last of her concerns, with everything else. All tangled up, now. Makoto made up her mind. As long as they were being truthful.

“Can I tell you something secret?” Makoto said.

Haru paused, blinking more tears out of her eyes to give Makoto a cautious, eager little nod.

“I...well…” Still not something she liked to discuss. But this was not the time for weakness. “I kind of had a huge thing for Ann. Not too long ago.”

Haru nodded. “Yes, I know.”

“What?!”

“Ryuji told me.”

_ Oh my god RYUJI _

Justice would be served. At a later time. “Right. Okay then. I just...I’m not saying I don’t like you or anything. I think I was still...you know, getting over that.”

Haru nodded again. “That’s understandable,” she said. “Ann is very pretty.”

Such understatement. Especially coming from someone equally gorgeous. Before Makoto could go further, Haru dropped her eyes again, sinking back into that same dull sadness Makoto had found her in.

“I appreciate you being polite about this,” Haru said. “But we don’t have to pretend. I’ve utterly embarrassed myself in front of you.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Makoto said.

“It was. I misinterpreted things,” Haru said. “I’m sorry I kissed you like that. I’m sorry I’ve shown you this part of me.”

And  _ that _ felt wrong most of all. Because part of Makoto wanted to thank Haru. For showing this part of herself, however inadvertently. For showing Makoto a part of her own self she couldn’t acknowledge before.

“I just hope we can be friends still,” Haru said. “I mean that.”

There really wasn’t any going back, though. On either count. Not this new understanding of herself, and not from the truth about how Haru felt.

The two were inseparable now, in a way. All tangled up.

“About that,” Makoto said.

“And we have the team to think about, I know,” Haru said, edging over into catastrophe. “I don’t want to make anything awkward for everyone, and I won’t…”

“Haru! Stop,” Makoto said, reaching out to touch her arm again. “Listen to me.”

Haru did stop, like she’d been scolded. She tried to shy away from Makoto’s touch, but Makoto held strong.

“I was doing some reading. Earlier today,” Makoto said, trying to figure out how to phrase this. “Doing a lot of thinking. About what you like, and about...what I like.”

That sent a startled little jolt through Haru. She looked up at Makoto with wide eyes again.

“You were right. We’re not all that different,” Makoto said, embarrassed to finally admit it. But she pressed on. “I was thinking maybe there’s...I don’t know, perhaps a healthier way we can go about it?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m not exactly sure yet,” Makoto said. “But maybe there’s a way we can find a new outlet for all...this. Something we can discuss. Together.”

“Discuss?” Haru said, clearly desperate not to be too excited. “Together?”

“Yes. Actually...I didn’t know this, but it turns out it’s common for people into...these kinds of things...to work out a contract.”

Haru’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, I like the sound of that! Very Phantom Thief-y.”

It was the first thing Makoto had thought, too. She smiled to herself. Haru sounded happy again, however briefly.

“A contract...for what?” Haru said, back to tentative caution.

Was she really about to do this? Makoto thought about Ann one last time, felt that little flicker of hopeless longing glowing like a dying spark.

She loved Ann. Always would. But there were many ways of loving someone. This wasn’t exactly moving on, Makoto told herself. It wasn’t giving up. It was learning. It was growing.

Growing in ways she had never, ever,  _ ever _ expected herself to, sure. But still.

It was time.

“I have a sort of proposal,” Makoto said.


End file.
